The Longer We Go, the Wrinklier Orgasmier We Get

A friend 15 years my senior once told me that she still feels like she did when she was 30 except that, when she looks in the mirror, she’s shocked to see a tired-looking middle-aged woman. I might be starting to understand… Today is my 37th birthday! The alternative to getting older is death so, yay, I’m super happy about this development. Although, if I’m being honest, I don’t really enjoy watching my age creep up.

Good morning 37

Good morning 37

It’s all about self-perception, as my friend’s statement illustrates. I can’t possibly be THAT age! When I turned 30, I had a full-on identity crisis. Of course, I’d just spent a year studying library science in the mostly windowless basement of one of the university’s libraries. This was in stark contrast to my previous life working in the beauty industry, surrounded by gorgeous people, meeting the occasional celebrity. I’m not sure what kind of breakdown I’ll be having in 3 years from now when I turn 40, but here’s a warning to my friends and family: expect a hot mess!

I’ll never forget learning about the stages of skin’s aging in makeup class and reading that the “bloom of youth” disappears at around age 25. I’m reminded of this a couple of times a year when I manage to stay up late and go out dancing in a club. There’s always a point in the evening when I become very aware of how young everyone [else] is. And, no matter how good I think I look in my stretchy H&M skirt, the bloom of youth can’t be faked; it’s an actually thing that you can see on people’s faces.


Helen Mirren is having more fun than all of us.

I admire those women who laugh off grey hair as if it were a trifle. And some remarkable dames don’t seem at all bothered by a slightly noticeable slackness of the skin, or by the increasing inability to party all night. Rationally, I know those women are right. We can’t stop time and, besides, we feel so much better about ourselves now than we did in our 20s; we finally have our careers together, we know who we are, etc.

But I can’t help it, even though 27 sucked and I would never chose to be that age again — I want to look 27 forever!!! Ironically, I must admit that this last year has been the best in a long time. Last summer, I was confused about what my next step should be so I started to plan this blog that I love writing. Then, on the same day I launched Bjütie, I had the lady cojones to make my intentions toward a sexy man I liked known. Two days later, he asked me out to dinner and we’ve been together ever since. Overall, 36 was pretty epic, maybe even life-changing (only time will tell). So why can’t I just age gracefully?

Ok, lest you think I’m some kind of Botox injecting, diet pill popping, gravity battling freak, I should probably set the record straight. By all accounts, I’m doing ok. I have had the same 3 grey hairs since I was 24 and I’ve made peace with them — they can stay as long as they don’t invite all their friends to the party. Also, my skin is pretty nice, though I must admit to mentally cataloguing each and every new little line as it appears and to forking over big bucks for fancy creams that have the maximum Retinol A content allowed without a doctor’s note (even though my experience in cosmetics has taught me that they’re mostly hocus pocus). For the most part, I’m quite happy with the current state of things. But just the fact that I’m making this kind of inventory of my aging process is alarming.


The so-called Real Housewives of Vancouver

I never want to turn into one of those Real Housewives type women with a mask-like face of puffy injectable “youth”. No! I want to be like Helen Mirren, aging beautifully, full of confidence and vitality. That Helen Mirren is sexier at 67 than I am at 37 should only boost my enthusiasm for the marching ahead of time. My heavens, women really can become more fulfilled, more joyful, and more orgasmic as we get older. Bring on the wrinkles! Bring on the face that has a ton of character! The better to express my unbridled pleasure with…

Am I convinced yet?

I have a recurring vision of me as an old lady with long witchy hair, deep laugh lines around my dark eyes, and a flowing skirt. And I’m happy. This is the image I should recall every time I try to evaluate whether my fine lines are getting any deeper. I’m not saying I won’t continue trying to look as young as I possibly can while still looking like me; after all, there’s nothing wrong with self-care with a view to self-preservation. I just hope I have the wisdom to accept and appreciate myself in my new forms as I age [gracefully]. I’m not quite there yet.


  1. I hope that for myself too. I’m only 3 years younger than you, but I hear ya! I figure as long as people still ask for my ID when I buy alcohol in the States, it still means I have a baby face! Moisturizer, water and exercise—they can be your best friend when it comes to feeling and looking young. Of course, I really believe that being happy is a huge factor in your looks too. The more stressed or sad you are, the more it shows on your face.

    • I would definitely rather have laugh lines than frown lines… When we were young, adults told us not to make a face because it would “freeze like that”. Well, it’s kinda true… eventually, your face does take on the permanent appearance of your common facial expressions. Think about that! Or don’t.

  2. yup! 🙂

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